Tuesday, May 17, 2011
We planned on finding masses of fiction fans down at the wharves, but there was only one man slowly setting up a row of orange flags, his patient border collie tethered to his van. So we walked back to Circular Quay and spread out our banner on a bench. Further down the promenade, there was a bushie in clown pants singing 'The Ryebuck Shearer'.
Lauren, Bonny, Courtney and Nona were all schoolmates. It was nerve-wracking to paint their portraits because teenagers are so sensitive about their appearance, and also because they all were reading each other's portraits while I typed, so I couldn't get away with any generic niceties. Not that generic niceties are my forté.
Harish and Martin were office-mates on their lunch-break. Harish is the only client so far who has laid a complaint against his portrait: he said I had forgotten his eyes. I quoted what I had written about his eyes, "detailed and delicate". I only have five minutes! I have to scrimp somewhere.
LET A PUBLISHED NOVELIST PAINT YOUR PORTRAIT IN WORDS
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